The End

Well, another family vacation week is coming to an end. I always hate for it to be over. It's kind of like all the planning that goes into Christmas...and then it's done. There's probably a name for it, but I'll refer to it as Post-Vacation Mullygrubs Syndrome or PVMS, for short. Feel free to substitute other special events in the title as you see fit: PCMS (Post-Christmas Mullygrubs Syndrome), PBMS (Post Birthday Mullygrubs Syndrome) *Note: PBMS has a shorter time span, however. It generally only lasts from ages 3 to 29.*


We just returned from our week in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia. It's so beautiful there. And quiet. Now, it's no secret that I love the beach. The powerful majesty of the rolling waves  overwhelms my emotions. It's also a little bit frightening. It can look calm, but have an unseen under current that can take you by surprise...not to mention large, fast swimming fish with huge mouths of razor sharp teeth...not that either stop me from being in the water. I love being at the ocean with my friends: sun, sand, waves, talking, laughter, food (although being on a diet put a monkey wrench in that part of the fun), repeat as needed. With my family, I love the mountains. The peacefulness. The beauty. The country. The mountains speak to me in a different way from the ocean. The ocean's waves crash in symbiotic time with the beat of my heart. They know the inner turmoils that churn and they are there to calm them with their constant being. High tide, low tide. Rough waves, calm waves. It's their way. The mountains whisper to my soul. Be still. Slow down. Breathe. When I'm there, I never want to leave. But, all good things must come to an end. (Unless we somehow become independently wealthy and could convince the owner to sell, then you'd be visiting me in the mountains.)  I can't wait to return.


P.S. I'll post pictures of our trip in another post...once my PVMS has eased a little. 

I'll jump on the vacation bandwagon

I thought I'd share a few pics from our family trip this summer. We rented a beach house on Topsail (pronounced Topsul) Island, NC. This was our first time to the ocean and to the Carolina's, as a family, so I wanted to go somewhere that was less populated. This location was so, so perfect for us. The house was nice (oceanfront with private walkway to the beach) and the beach was virtually empty. At the busiest point of the day, which might have been early afternoon, the closest people (and by that I mean maybe a group of 4 or 5 at the most) were 200 yards away. It was like being on a private beach. Tons of seashells - nice, smooth ones too, not those broken, jagged daggers that you find in Ocean City! The only "downside" of the island is there isn't a whole lot to do, so if you like to hit the beach during the day and then play on boardwalks or a tackle a game of Hillbilly Golf (Honest, this is a place in Gatlinburg, TN. www.gatlinburg-attractions.com/hillbilly_golf_.html You play the round on the side of a mountain. You ride an incline to reach the course. I'm a hillbilly, mountain Mama from WV, yes I had to play! I shot a good game that night. I have pics somewhere.), then this island probably isn't for you. Not a lot of "nightlife" happening. It was awesome though...didn't want to leave.


View from the sun deck of our house (well, "ours" for the week. I wish that was my daily view!)



Sunrise our first morning. I love the picture of Julianna standing at the edge. The beauty and power of the ocean will never cease to amaze me.

You could fill buckets of shells everyday if you wanted to.

See? No one. This was close to midday. (Of course, we did go very late in the season, so that probably had a little to do with it.)

Jolly Roger Pier

Another sunrise (I have quite a few. I'll spare you any more.)

Family Pic

Julianna and her first palm tree

Our GPS in the garage at the house. This just got me tickled for whatever reason.

The ocean and surf the day that Hurricane Earl was coming for a visit. He turned out to be a big bust, so I shouldn't even give him any credit!

This chair is the unsung hero of Hurricane Earl. I don't know who it belonged to (was left by someone that stayed at the house next door?), but it buried itself into the sand and it did not budge regardless of how strong the surf got. I was going to write "I survived Hurricane Earl" on it, but thought defacing property might get me banned from the island and I wanna go back! Yeah, the pole? Total sissy. Got whipped out into the waves in no time.

This was taken on the morning we were leaving. My girl, I know EXACTLY how you feel.